


Between a Hard Place and a Harder Place

by OwlEspresso, QuillMind



Category: Free!
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Other, Polyamory Negotiations, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Club, Smut, Spitroasting, Surprise Sex, Teasing, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 04:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16381121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: A night out with Natsuya leads you to a private sex club.  It doesn't take long before you two make use of the premises, but what about when a familiar, annoying guy suddenly makes an appearance?





	Between a Hard Place and a Harder Place

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally an unplanned fic relay on Discord with [OwlEspresso!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso) Ended up becoming long enough that it seemed best to transcribe it! There's still not a lot of Natsuya stuff out there right now, but hopefully that will change!

A meeting to discuss Ikuya’s current condition was what started all this. To your knowledge, Natsuya and Hiyori tried to meet at least once a month to both catch up and talk about how the younger Kirishima was doing. This time, Natsuya asked you to come along. And as someone who Ikuya had come to know as an older sister, you were thrilled. 

The meeting was late at night, as your schedules were difficult to align. Natsuya decided that you could both hang out before actually going to meet Hiyori, who would be late due to swim practice. You had expected to go to a nice restaurant, a cozy cafe, maybe even a bar, given how Natsuya liked to drink.

You didn’t expect to be swept away to an underground sex club, nestled in the deepest confines of the red light district. The night started innocently enough, with Natsuya bringing you to a classy restaurant for dinner. 

You didn’t find that noteworthy--after all, there were plenty of upscale shops and eateries there, if one looked in the right places. 

Afterward, he insisted on taking a walk, and by the time you noticed how deep in the area you were, it was too late. Compared to all of the other bars and clubs with their seedy neon signs and posters advertising the rates of various services, the place Natsuya led you to was nondescript and minimalist, even elegant.  Only when you looked closer at the discreet sign in the front did you realize what kind of place this was. 

Of  _ course _ he’d asked you if you wanted to head in. And how could you say no to the puppy dog eyes he was giving you? Not to mention you were a little curious yourself.  You couldn’t help but let him lead you inside, only realizing the gravity of your decision when you heard the sultry moans of the other patrons in their individual booths.  The lights were kept low, and each booth had black organza curtains to provide a modicum of privacy, but it was embarrassingly easy for you to make out what was going on at each table.  

A host guided you to a booth in the far corner of the room.  The seats were made of synthetic material that would be easier to clean, though they didn’t feel cheap or tacky.  Several cushions were available to make for a plush and luxurious environment, and the subtle, spicy fragrance of incense made the cool air seem warm and indulgent.  What really got your attention, though, was the assortment of toys, condoms, lube and other paraphernalia that was elegantly laid out on a large tray on the middle of the table.  

At first, you both look pretty out of place what with you just sitting there and sipping on drinks, but with all the background moaning and other lewd sounds, it’s not long before Natsuya rolls his head over to you and asks, “Wanna get started?”

The cocktail you had was stronger than you expected. Yes, that has to be the reason. Has to be the reason for you being so willing to climb onto Natsuya’s lap and grind against him while making out.  You don’t resist when you feel the hands groping your chest or ass over your clothes, nor when they become bolder and go under them to touch bare skin. A high-pitched whine jumps out of you when fingers snake past your skirt and panties to reach the wetness between your legs, but you only push yourself against Natsuya even harder and needier.

A playful chuckle echoes into your throat. “You’re quite the exhibitionist,” Natsuya whispers.  “Wanna keep going?”

You never would’ve considered the possibility of doing something like this in a public place. Well, semi-public.  It is as Natsuya pointed out earlier—everyone else is wrapped up in their own matters to be paying attention to what you two are doing.  But that voyeuristic thrill is still there. There’s something about the idea that others could see you, dripping profusely and wordlessly urging Natsuya to undo his pants faster so you can get his dick in you that is addictively exciting. It’s enough that it might be responsible for the louder-than-usual yelp you let out when you finally sink down onto that hard cock you’ve been craving.

“You’re wetter than normal,” Natsuya grunts teasingly while he watches you twitch and shudder on his lap. “I guess you’re a much filthier girl than either of us ever knew, huh?”

You haven’t even started moving yet, and you feel exalted. Natsuya has his cock inside of you for the first time in almost a week, with multiple strangers not even ten feet away in any direction. The booth seats squeak as you cringe at his words, the rational part of your mind rushing to find a retort.

“Th-that’s not...”

The mischievous snort is the only warning you get a fraction of a second before Natsuya grips your hips with both hands and swivels you over his cock in a figure eight. The feel of him stirring you up inside is too much for you to take, and you bury your head into his shoulder just in time to muffle a wanton moan.

“It is true,” Natsuya hisses, his tongue poking out to lick the outer rim of your ear. “And I fucking love it.”

"... Na... Natsuuuuuu—“

It’s almost childlike that all you can do is repeat his name while he begins to lift you up and down on top of him. In the early days you felt self-conscious about leaving your entire body weight to him, but it’s been proven time and time again that he has strength to spare. 

Soon the two of you are making enough noise to match the rest of the bar’s patrons.  A part of you wishes you were both naked so that you could freely touch each other, that you could show everyone just how amazing this man makes you and only you feel. Along with being a fantastic swimmer, Natsuya has the innate ability to make you think you can do anything.  He feels the same way about you. It used to be that only swimming could make him so breathless and single-minded. Now that title belongs to you. 

“Oh god, Natsu, Natsu, I--”

“You look so good like this.”  His praise makes a shiver roll up your spine.  Moments later he whispers for you to come on his cock and you do, biting back a shout as you squeeze both your arms and your walls around him.

Natsuya grunts as his own climax hits him, bucking upward to shoot his come into you. He sounds guttural, raw and uncontrolled when he orgasms, and it never fails to fill you with a tinge of pride that you’re the only one to have heard him like that.

As if sensing your thoughts, Natsuya brings his hand up to gently pat your head. It’s a simple gesture but filled with such affection that it makes your heart melt.

You slump against Natsuya's firm body, chest heaving with each breath. His arms curl around your waist and tug you as close as he can to his chest, making your eyebrows wrinkle when his cock shifts inside you. 

"...Do you think he'll be mad that we're late?" you murmur softly. Now that the high is gone, you're again left with the looming responsibilities reality has forced upon you. 

Natsuya nuzzles his cheek into your shoulder.  "No. I think he'll understand just fine." There’s something about the languid drawl in his voice that makes you frown. Usually, he's concerned with being punctual to meetings, especially those that involve Hiyori or Ikuya. 

Before you can ask, the curtain in front of the booth parts, making your eyes snap open.  Turning your head back, you see none other than Hiyori himself standing there, looking more smug than he ever has since you first met him.  

"Pardon the intrusion~" he coos.

"Hiyori!?" You squeal, voice pitching embarrassingly high. The look he fixes you with, lips curled, eyes lidded, makes you clench around Natsuya's cock, causing the latter to hiss.

Hiyori waves pleasantly as if he’s just dropped by for afternoon tea.  “You know, if you were going to change the location for the meeting, you could’ve at least told me,” he said in a smug sing-song. 

Instinctively, you move to get off of Natsuya’s lap, but then remember that, ironically, staying stationed on your boyfriend’s cock is actually the least incriminating thing for you to do at the moment. Biting your lip, you pull the hem of your skirt down to keep yourself covered.

"That’s cute," Hiyori snorts, silently pointing out the foolishness and futility in your actions.  Given the position you’re both in, your flushed faces and partially undone clothes, there’s no way you could convince anyone that you didn’t just have sex in a club booth.  

Shoving his bag into the corner of the booth, Hiyori steps forward and closes the curtain behind him. Heat swells underneath your skin as he moves forward, cornering you against Natsuya. Slender fingers lift to brush along your flushed cheek before Hiyori takes a seat directly across from you. 

"I think you've tired Natsuya-san out."  His gaze softens and he spreads his arms out loftily. "Come here, princess."

Princess?  Hiyori has never called you that or any other nickname before.  There is a bit of sarcasm to it and the way he says it, like everything else that he does, but you like it anyway.  It gets your mind thinking of various other things he could be calling you.

“She’s fine where she is,” Natsuya said, though his casual tone is betrayed by the way he wraps you in his arms and brings you closer against his chest. It’s a risky move since it shows off more of your behind to Hiyori, as your sound of protest indicates.

You can feel it—the warm, wet stickiness of Natsuya’s come beginning to ooze out of you. As mortifying as it would be for you to have Hiyori to see the evidence of your activities, you can’t deny that a part of you—that same part that was relishing this experience to begin with—is liking the idea of a direct witness.

“Oh, I bet she’s fine,” Hiyori grins with suggestive emphasis on the last word. “But it’s a little rude to have a conversation with your back to someone, isn’t it? Come on, why don’t you at least turn around and face me? Or... if Natsuya can’t help you, maybe I should?”

You're not sure if you want to cry, hide your face in Natsuya's shoulder, or beg him to fuck you again. Hiyori's taunting and teasing have no right to make you as wet as they do. The tail end of his question causes your cheeks to grow hot, as though the implication of him putting his hands on you is the lewdest part of this situation.  

"No, that's alright," Natsuya chimes in before you can form an answer. His hands wander to your hips to lift you off his cock, and you whimper at the loss. Cum spills onto the cushions beneath and continues to trail between your thighs as you’re seated beside Natsuya at an angle to face Hiyori, whose eyes are glued on you to salaciously appraise your body.  You shoot a look over your shoulder and shudder at the lazy smile Natsuya is wearing. Had this been planned from the very start? You're confused and aroused, and you don't know what to do. 

Maybe it shows because Hiyori is suddenly reaching out to you.  He tilts his head and smiles sweetly.

“Pardon me,” he says just before pulling your skirt up to your waist. Your eyes go wide and you try to retreat, but Natsuya has you blocked in and gently pulls your arms back, leaving you entirely open for Hiyori’s leering.

“You didn’t even take her underwear off?” he asks in mock despair. “Someone’s sure impatient—and maybe lacking in other things as well~?”

Natsuya shrugs, kissing your shoulder. “It seemed better at the time to leave them there.”

Hiyori snickers. “Perv.  Well, it doesn't matter." He grasps your hips and tugs you forward, using a surprising amount of upper arm strength to lift and manhandle you over to his side of the booth. Is this happening? Your mind races and you feel yourself begin to tremble. Hiyori is easily one of the most attractive men you've ever laid eyes on. He's intelligent, dedicated, loyal to his friends... and also a huge asshole. But the whole sugary act he puts on makes you salivate. 

"Lay down, okay?" 

You can barely manage a nod before his hands meet your shoulders, gently pushing you down. Your back meets the soft cushion, leaving you to stare up at the ceiling. The feeling of his thumbs hooking underneath the waistband of your panties grounds you to the physical world. He taps your thigh with his fingers, and you get the message, lifting your hips so he can rid you of both your panties and skirt, completely exposed to him, at his mercy... While Natsuya looks on.

“Woooow, you’re overflowing,” Hiyori says, giving your soiled panties a quick sniff before putting them aside with your skirt. “Is that because Natsuya came a lot, or is it because you’re so small inside?”

You open and close your mouth before looking away. How are you supposed to answer that!?

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

You turn to face Natsuya as he spoke and notice that he has a fresh drink in his hand, which he sips from casually. 

“That is a great idea,” Hiyori nods, leisurely bringing his gaze back to yours. “You’d like that, right? Letting me see what your pussy feels like?”

Several blinks later and you’re no less bewildered. 

This is happening. Hiyori and Natsuya with you both in a dark and semi-private sex club. 

The odds of you leaving this place as a total mess are incredibly high.

“Yes.”

Hiyori smiles, holding a confidence that lets you know he expected your submission from the start. It makes you want to punch him and kiss him senseless at the same time, but given that assault charges tend to hinder career paths, you settle for the latter. You try to sit up, but Hiyori's hands meet your shoulders and push you back.

"Stay down, please."  It's obviously a command, despite the ‘please.’  Knowing that you're probably about to get the best dicking in your life soothes you into compliance, only listening to the rustle of fabric as he slides his trousers and boxers down, wiggling enough out of them so he can fuck you comfortably, without any clothes in the way.

“In case you hadn’t figured out by now, the meeting was a lie.”

You don’t respond to Hiyori’s statement, being a little distracted by the sight of his erect cock being exposed to you. It’s maybe a bit shorter than Natsuya’s but has plenty of girth, with thick veins giving it a texture that’s sure to feel amazing.

“Did you just lick your lips?” Hiyori asks, lazily trailing his fingers along the inside of your thighs. “Well, aren’t you a dirty one.”

Natsuya smirks. “You have no idea.”

“No, I’d say I have a pretty good idea,” Hiyori counters, rubbing his other hand over his cock while he continues to touch you. “Especially after that time I walked by the locker room when you two were in it.”

You freeze upon realizing which incident he’s talking about. Roughly a couple of months ago, you’d gone to pick up Natsuya from the pool late at night only to be taken aside and railed against the lockers. 

“Don’t worry, there’s no one else here but us,” Natsuya had assured you at the time. “Let me hear how good you feel.”

And you did—many times over. Only to learn now that you’d had an audience. 

Heat flares in your face, but not quite as much as between your legs where Hiyori’s teasing fingers are wandering to.

“I hadn’t ever heard you make noises like that before,” he hums fondly. The pads of his fingers reach the slick of yours and Natsuya’s juices that coat your entrance. “It was like you were an entirely different person, moaning Natsuya’s name like that, begging him to fuck you harder while this—“ he pushes two of his fingers inside of your pussy with a lewd, wet sound, “was echoing throughout the entire locker room.” 

He moves his hand in and out, leading you to arch your back and part your lips.  You’re still sensitive from Natsuya, but to have Hiyori touch and speak to you this way is scrambling your mind.

“Hi... Hiyori...”

A glimmer of emotion flirts across his features, and there’s the slightest pause in his fingers before he resumes moving them, his sly smile spreading even wider.

“You really are cute, you know that? Even in a situation like this, you’re so cute. It makes me want to utterly wreck you.”

His thumb finds your swollen clit and presses against it.  A rattling breath shudders through your overheated body at the slow touch, craving more, but not yet ready to beg. He positions himself between your thighs and peers at your spread folds, his gaze so thorough and fascinated that it makes you grow warm with embarrassment. Your legs begin to slide shut but he reaches down in an instant to pry them back open.

"I don't know why you're getting so shy on me," He says, his voice suddenly dry, "Especially after fucking Natsuya-san in such a public place. You get off on that, right?" 

Again his thumb teases at your clit, fingertips lingering against your entrance and brushing your folds in a way that has you whining and trying to buck into them.  _ Trying _ being the main word.

"Cute." Natsuya remarks languidly, his molten eyes fixated on you, even while he sips at whatever godawful drink he had ordered.  Only after he gulps it down does he finally provide some explanation for the current scenario.

“Hiyori came to me after that time in the locker room,” he says, his sentence punctuated by the ice clinking in his glass. “And he asked me if you would ever be interested in having a third person join in for some fun. I know you mentioned it a few times in the past, but I knew about your exhibitionist streak for much longer.”

Your look of confused chagrin falters as Hiyori curls his fingers up to brush against your G-spot. Your legs jerk; Hiyori chuckles to himself.

Natsuya leans forward to caress your cheek. Despite everything that’s going on, he exudes love and affection as he looks into your eyes.  “Do you remember when we were in that lecture hall one time?” he says quietly. “Or that park on the way home from the summer festival? Or the fitting room when we were shopping for your swimsuit? Those were some of the times you were especially turned on.”

No reproach can be made by you, not when Hiyori’s ministrations are making you squirm and pant. But a distant part of you does recall all those moments Natsuya mentioned, and the way you had been wet to the point of dripping and were as insistent as an addict to have him inside of you.  Whining in dismay and need, you turn your face into Natsuya’s palm.

Hiyori raises his eyebrows as he continues to stroke you. “In a fitting room, too? I wonder if Ikuya has ever heard you guys go at it?”

The mention of Ikuya’s name brings you back to reality.  Ikuya, who was so sullen and withdrawn on the outside but in fact sweet and sensitive underneath.  “No,” you said meekly, “Ikuya, he, he hasn’t heard us—“

“Honestly, it’s very possible,” Natsuya objects. “Japanese homes’ walls being so thin and all.”

Hiyori frowns. “See, I’m not too crazy about that,” he says to you as if he were a teacher admonishing a student’s mild transgression. “Ikuya really likes you and looks up to you almost like a big sister; it’d be a real shock to him if he found out just how depraved you are.”

There’s a wet squelch as Hiyori’s fingers leave your body. You give a plaintive mewl and unconsciously arch your back.

“Hiyori...”

“Don’t worry,” Hiyori purrs while aligning his hips with yours, “I can keep a secret. Ikuya doesn’t have to know. In fact, I don’t want him to.”

Your throat is feeling dry and sticky, and your hands grip at the leather of the seats. Hiyori’s cock is bobbing just in front of your entrance, a shiny bead of pre-come topping the head.  

“Hiyori, please, pleeeeease...” 

Hiyori bends over to bring his face closer to yours, his devilish grin filling your vision.

“Well, since you asked so nicely...” and then he thrusts forward.

The cry that leaves your lips is downright sinful.  Hiyori moves faster than you expected but you’re more than ready for him, lubricated from your previous activities. In the back of your mind, you realize you aren’t going to be able to look Ikuya in the eyes for a long, long time.  But any thought of him is promptly wiped away as Hiyori tilts his hips back and thrusts forward again, and again and again. The pace he sets is brutal, a far cry from Natsuya’s. Your hands reach up to grip his shoulders, desperate for anything to hold onto.

"You're always cute," Hiyori hums, pressing kisses to your sweat-slicked skin. Your lips curl around a desperate whimper when he suddenly slows to a crawl. You don't need a mirror to know how depraved you must look. "But I think you look the best when you're like this."

Fragments of words spill from your lips, though you’ll never know what you might have been trying to say. Was Hiyori better than Natsuya? No—and that’s a horribly unfair question to begin with—but he’s someone different, and Natsuya is watching while you’re being fucked by him. There’s no way you can be composed about this.

“You feel—“ Hiyori huffs, his exertion betraying his constant smug and snarky demeanor, “—so good. Do you know that? Do you know how tightly you’re squeezing around me?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. 

Hiyori pulls his hips as far back as he can until he’s almost completely out of you before slamming back in again. You shriek and he grunt-laughs simultaneously.

“I feel like I’ll come right away if I’m not careful,” he mutters with amusement. “It’s been a pretty long time since I’ve felt like that.”

"Grips you like a vice, right?" Natsuya says, his voice low. You don’t get a chance to even be embarrassed, because Hiyori thrusts into you in a way that has you squealing. As much as he seemed to like taking his time, his pace begins to quicken, away from the slow crawl it had been and into a steadier rhythm.

All you can do is wrap your arms around Hiyori's shoulders in a way that makes him blink and stiffen for a moment, as though surprised by the embrace.

"Ah, you're cute." He relaxes, pressing a kiss to your temple. It’s a gesture of affection that feels more real than it has any right to. You tremble underneath him, only able to keen as his free hand strokes down your side and teases your clit again, threatening to overwhelm you.

“I think you’re getting yourself more of an audience,” Natsuya comments. Sure enough, it looks like a few of the bar patrons might be facing the direction of your booth. With the lights down low and the layers of translucent curtains everywhere, it isn’t possible to identify you without entering the booth space, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying.

“Don’t sweat it,” Hiyori says, “this place has strict rules, one of which is that no guests can intrude on another’s booth without permission. No one will see you--but they are free to hear you.”

As if on cue, the wet noises coming from where you and Hiyori are joined become louder.

You roll your head back at the mounting sensations inside and open your eyes to see Natsuya’s on yours. There’s a faint smile on his face as he continues to watch you, but suddenly you’re with the realization that that isn’t enough. 

“Natsu...” is all you say, reaching out with a weak hand to touch his thigh.

His voice is deep and soft. “What is it? What do you want?”

“I want—I want you, Natsu. In me, please, I want to feel you.”

“Someone’s greedy,” Natsuya observes, downing the rest of his drink. “Even with Hiyori fucking you like this, you still want more?”

“Y-yes,” you answer quickly with a vigorous nod, “I want more, I—please, Natsu, I need you!”

Hiyori pulls your shirt and bra up to your chin. Both he and Natsu are temporarily distracted by the sight of your breasts swaying back and forth with Hiyori’s movements, while you continue moaning and pleading for Natsuya. Hiyori stops teasing your clit to instead palm your breasts in his hands, kneading the pliant flesh as he pleases.

“Cute and dirty and greedy,” he says, changing his fast thrusts to deep and slow strokes. His fingers and thumbs close around your nipple and pinch, earning himself a twitch and a gasp from you. “And so sensitive. You’re the whole package, aren’t you?”

Without waiting for a response, he bends over to flick his tongue over the hardened buds.

“Aah! Hi-Hiyori—Natsu, Natsuuu—!”

Natsuya then sets his empty glass down on the table and rises to have one knee on the sofa seat while the other foot is planted on the floor. 

“All right, all right, I can’t refuse when you're so insistent, can I?” His pants are still undone, so he only needs the slightest of adjustment to get his hard-again cock out and into his hands. 

Your mouth is already open and waiting when a waiter outside of the booth clears his throat.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says discreetly to Natsuya, “But the hour is almost up. Would you like to extend your time?”

You mewl petulantly. The very idea that this would all stop now is horrible to suggest. Thankfully, though, your two partners are of the same mind.

Hiyori’s lips pop off of your nipple to let him answer, “I think we’ll stick around for at least another hour.”

“Yeah,” Natsuya concurs. “We’re not going anywhere just yet.” 

The waiter nods and bows. “Of course. Did you want to order any more drinks?”

“Gin and tonic for me,” Hiyori says, sucking on your breasts to leave red marks.

“I’ll get a refill of what I had earlier,” Natsuya says, “But she’s fine—she’s about to get plenty to drink right now.” With that said, he turns his back to the waiter and pushes his cock into your eager mouth.

If you dwell too much on how the waiter was standing right there, you’ll lose your mind. Fortunately, Natsuya has the perfect way to distract you. Your lips wrap around his cock as he slowly shoves his hips forward, quieting your moans. He’s too big to fit completely, but it’s enough to make him groan as he begins to fuck your mouth, to use you.  Your knuckles go white as you desperately claw at the cushioning, eyes squeezing shut. 

"You're taking our cocks so perfectly.  Now I see why Natsuya-san likes you so much."  The demeaning edge to Hiyori's praise only serves to make you wetter. The smugness in his tone makes you want to punch him and kiss him senseless at the same time, but any coherent thought vanishes from your mind as he hits an especially deep place within you. It tears a cock-muffled cry from your throat, louder than any before it.

Natsuya hisses through his teeth and lets his head fall back. His neck tightens, and his hands ball up into fists.

Seeing these things makes you so happy. Usually Natsuya is composed throughout even the most stressful of times, so to get him to this state of struggling to maintain control does wonders for your ego. 

Natsuya’s feeling good, and it’s all because of you.

With a grunt, you sit up and push both men away from you. The loss of their bodies feels tragic, but you know it’s only temporary as you wordlessly get onto your hands and knees facing Natsuya. Glancing back at Hiyori, you bite your lip and lift your skirt over into your back so that your bare ass is exposed. You can’t see the streams of Natsuya’s come trailing down your thighs, but you know Hiyori can.

They’re back inside of you within seconds, saliva and other fluids sloppily echoing from both ends of your body. In the background, there are a few hushed whispers from the other bar patrons, but you’re now well past the point of caring. Let them hear. Hell, let them see—to a limited extent, anyway.

“Lifted up your ass right away—like a bitch in heat.” 

If Hiyori smoothing his hands over your ass to admire it before administering a sharp slap is meant to shock you, it only partially works.

“You got real tight there. Damn, are you going to like everything I do to you?”

Natsuya pets your head like you’re a pampered pet.  “Well,” he points out, “she doesn’t like not coming.”  He’s trying to remain casual, but the strain in his voice makes it clear that he’s getting close.

“Ah, well, although that does sound like fun, I think for now what we all want is to fill our little Princess up, right?”

You answer with a muffled ‘yes,’ emphasizing by coiling your tongue around Natsuya’s cock and pushing back against Hiyori’s pelvis and clenching him as hard as possible.

Hiyori's thrusts rock you into Natsuya's cock, which twitches in your mouth. They bounce you between them as though you're a mere tool for their pleasure, a means to an end. The thought makes you shudder, glazed eyes shutting tight as you feel the waves of your orgasm begin to wrap tight around you.

One of your hands leaves the cushions as you reach down to tease your clit.  Natsuya's heavy breathing and moaning are becoming louder, and you notice him arching his back in the way he usually does when he's close to orgasm.

Hiyori grips your hips firmly, his thrusts losing rhythm but growing deeper, warmth permeating every inch of you, every frayed nerve. You squeal when he finds your G-spot, and he makes a point to hit it over and over and over again.  By the time Natsuya peaks with a dragged-out groan, fat tears are rolling down your cheeks. You swallow every drop you can get, not that there was ever an option since his fingers are gripping your hair and holding you tight in place.

"Good girl," Natsuya praises breathlessly, slowly beginning to pull his cock out while Hiyori still plows you from behind.  Despite your efforts, a thick string of drool and come spills over your glossy lips and drips onto the seat. You can't imagine how fucked you must look.  

“Na--Natsu…”  

A quiet grunt is heard behind you as Hiyori yanks you by the arm so that you’re on your knees.  His face looms just over your shoulder while a hand snakes up to squeeze your breast. 

“Don’t forget about me,” he laughs.  “Come on, let me feel you come on my dick.” 

Your fingers work at your clit desperately, and suddenly you're over the edge.  You drag Hiyori with you because he's made you a mess and you're damned if you're not gonna at least try to repay it in full. You cry out and clench tightly as you gush all over him, and that's all he needs. His hips stutter and tremble as he empties within you, your name coming out of his mouth like a prayer.

When the last of Hiyori’s climax tapers off and he pulls himself out, your strength leaves with it and you collapse onto the couch. Now there’s an even greater mess spilling from between your legs, and the fact that it’s a blend of both Natsuya and Hiyori makes you shudder with delight. It’s strange; though you’re utterly exhausted, somewhere your body has found the energy to keep vibrating from the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Natsuya is the first to tend to you, taking a few wet wipes and cleaning the mess on your inner thighs. Hiyori dresses again before joining in by lifting one of your legs open to give Natsuya better access. You make an embarrassed sound, but it’s not like you have the energy to resist. It’s hard to say how much of Hiyori’s gesture is out of actual concern for your well-being and how much is due to his constant desire to tease you.

Once Natsuya deems you satisfactorily clean, he sits back down and lifts your limp body onto his lap.  “Are you all right?” None of the aggressiveness or nonchalance is there anymore, just tender care. 

You nod slowly and snuggle your head against his chest. 

Hiyori's gaze lingers on you, you can feel it. But exhaustion is starting to outweigh your ability to open your eyes, let alone speak.

"We have another hour," Natsuya tells you softly.  "You can take a nap if you want." 

You nod, then lock your gaze onto Hiyori. He leans forward to kiss the top of your head.  "Just sleep," he murmurs. "We'll wake you up when it's time to go." 

You try to murmur a ‘thank you,’ but it only comes out as an incoherent mumble before your eyes finally close. 

 

****

 

The scent of tea gently rouses you.  When you awaken, the dark red leather of the booth seats and the black organza curtains are nowhere to be seen, and instead you’re laying in a familiar white bed with the large desk where Natsuya always does his work.  

“Rise and shine,” comes the gentle voice from the foot of the bed. A turn of your head reveals Hiyori sitting on the mattress, holding a steaming mug in his hand.

You stare at Hiyori for a solid minute as you try to figure out what happened. As your mind sharpens, you realize you’re wearing one of Natsuya’s t-shirts... and nothing else.

Hiyori grins as your eyes dart to his. “We figured it’d be best to change you since, you know, you were so sweaty and all. Plus, it’s nice to see you in a place with more light.”

Your hands clench the blanket and you draw your knees to your chest.  “I—I would’ve just changed when I got home!” you say, trying not to think about Hiyori stripping and dressing you—and how much you like that idea.

“Well, that wouldn’t be as fun,” Hiyori pouts disingenuously. “And is that any way to talk to the one who was nice enough to carry you here?”

“...You carried me?”

“Well, yeah. Figured it’d be nicer to have our conversation in private when you woke up.” 

He pushes the mug into your hands and motions for you to drink it.  Warily, you take a small sip and are pleasantly surprised by the taste of lemon and honey.

“Good for a throat when it’s been through some punishment,” Hiyori smiles, breaking into a quiet laugh when you nearly do a spit-take. “Who would’ve thought that that pretty little mouth could take so much?”

You curl in tighter and hide your face with the mug. “You weren’t in my mouth.”

“No, I was somewhere much tighter.”

"Now, now," comes a familiar voice.  Natsuya walks in then, shirtless and clad in only a pair of grey sweatpants. He takes a seat in his desk chair on the opposite side of the room and regards you with a soft smile, "I think you've teased her enough for one day. Let's address the elephant in the room." 

"Yeah." Hiyori relaxes and crosses his arms, his gaze growing softer the longer he looks at you. 

You gather up your courage as you take a deep breath.  "Is this going to be a regular thing?" 

Natsuya takes a moment to think. 

"We were hoping for it," He finally admits with a shrug, "Though, if you're not on board, it doesn't have to happen. But you seemed pretty into it." A self-satisfied smirk appears on his lips as he rests his cheek on the palm of his hand.

The room is silent except for the faint ringing sound of you tapping your fingers against the ceramic mug. 

“Would—would this be only about sex, or, like, a real relationship?” 

Hiyori’s expression softens into something oddly vulnerable. “Even sex-only is still a relationship,” he points out. “If you want to keep this strictly physical, I can do that. But I do like you. And I think you like me, too.”

You glance at Natsuya, then at Hiyori.

“I’m... I’ve never done something like this before.”

“That makes three of us.”

You worry that this was too good to be true. It probably is. Undoubtedly there’ll be further discussion to clarify terms, and a high level of discretion will be essential. 

But you do want this. You want  _ them _ \--Natsuya and Hiyori both.

“I love Natsuya,” you say clearly, looking into Hiyori’s eyes.

He nods. “I know you do.”

“I don’t know if I’ll end up loving you. But I did like what we did. A lot. You... you felt good to me, Hiyori.”

“I know that, too,” comes the playful response. 

You shift in your seat as you recall how Hiyori felt, his cock plunging deep into you over and over. Clearing your mind and throat, you continue.  

“I think... I’d like to try this. The three of us.”

Hiyori and Natsuya share a look that ends in them both gently smiling at you with equal adoration.

“Great!” Natsuya is the first to break the silence, hope and joy glimmering in his coffee brown eyes. He kind of looks like a big puppy. Clapping his hands together he declares, “Let’s order pizza and get some beer! It’ll be a celebration!” 

“You just look for any excuse to drink, Natsu.” You huff, though you don’t mind the idea. Your stomach growls and you tap your fingers against the mug in an attempt to drown the embarrassing noise out. It’s likely the early morning, judging from how the sunlight streams into the room through the barely-open blinds. 

“Now, now,” Hiyori teases. “You really exerted yourself earlier. You must be pretty hungry, right?”

“We are not getting pizza and drinking at,” You glance to the clock, deadpan, “ten in the morning.” 

Natsuya shrugs and puts up his hands in surrender.  “Alright, alright, let’s get to making breakfast, then. It’ll be romantic.” He smiles at you in a way that makes him impossible to refuse. Why would you? You don’t bother suppressing the grin that lights up your face as you throw your legs over the bed, ignoring the soreness in your thighs. 

Knowing your two partners, it’s a sensation you’ll probably have to get used to.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr!](https://quillmind.tumblr.com/)   
>  [OwlEspresso's Tumblr!](https://owlespresso.tumblr.com/)


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